Pain
by kdross42
Summary: Antillus Crassus almost died for his country in the Vord War.  Hurt, both physically and mentally, he retreated to his home, and refused to speak to Octavian.  What happens when his big brother comes to convince him to return to his old life? One shot.


Antillus Crassus stood on the walls surrounding his city, overlooking the bleak landscape that was the remains of the Shieldwall. His home had suffered greatly from the Vord War, as had the rest of Alera. A sharp pain lanced through his chest as he drew in a labored, rattling breath. He, too, had suffered. He doubted that he would even still have been alive were it not for the extensive efforts of his mother. A face flashed through his mind, and the pain that he felt all the time intensified, devouring him until he could barely breathe.

Octavian.

His betrayal hurt worse than any injury ever could. Oh, bloody crows, it _hurt_. How could he not have told him about his mother's survival? Octavian, his leader, his friend, had kept the most important thing in the world hidden, and now Crassus suffered even more. It wasn't fair.

Crassus leaned heavily on the thick wooden cane he always carried now and staggered forward a step. The pain was unbelievable, even after all of the work he had been through. It was months after the battle, and he could still barely move, a few steps at a time, no more. Crows, even sitting hurt. Breathing hurt. He thought that some of the pain would have gone away by now, lessened over time, but it was still there, every breath he took, every time he moved, a constant reminder of what he had sacrificed for the realm. For Octavian. The anger was almost as constant as the pain.

"Crassus," the voice came from right behind him. The broken young man stumbled in shock, but strong arms caught him, spun him around and eased his back against the wall so that it partially supported his weight. Crassus scowled up at his half-brother.

"Maximus," he panted, trying to catch his breath. "What do you want?"

"Well, I came to beat some sense into you, but it looks like someone has already done that." Crassus glared at the bigger man. "Okay, not funny," Max conceded. "But, Crassus, you have to talk to him."

"No," Crassus replied bluntly.

"Crows," Max swore. "Stop being such a stubborn prick. The man is sorry for what happened to you."

"He lied to me, Max. That didn't just happen, he chose to do it. Over and over again. He had months to tell me, and he didn't."

"Octavian had some other things on his mind. If you didn't notice, the man was fighting two crows begotten wars , reinventing the Citizenry, and finding completely new applications of furycraft in order to save everybody's lives."

Crassus's breathing became faster, more painful. He knew this, of course. He had thought about it all before, and had always pushed it away.

"He should have found the time. It was my mother, Max. Think of all the things he did for his family, and then tell me that it honestly slipped his mind for all that time."

"She asked him not to tell you," Max said softly. "Did she tell you that? She didn't want you to know what she had become, so she begged Octavian not to tell you."

That hit Crassus like a physical blow. He hadn't known; she had never mentioned that detail. His breaths became even more erratic, uneven.

"I hurt so much," Crassus breathed. His brother's eyes shone with sympathy and pity.

"It will get better-" he began.

"It never gets better!" Crassus cried, pain lancing through him. "It never stops, and it hurts. Crows, it hurts. Max, I can't fly. I can't even think about Octavian without knowing that I will never be whole again. I'm a Knight Aeris, and I can't even leave the ground. And I _can't_ get past that."

"Crassus, look at me," his brother said sternly. "Look at where I am standing."

It took Crassus a minute to figure out what his brother meant. Then it clicked. They were on the Shieldwall. In Antillus. The place that his brother had sworn he would never step foot in again. Antillar Maximus had come home.

"Why-" he began.

"I came with Octavian. He's here, Crassus, and he is your First Lord. And I don't care if I have to pick you up and throw you over my shoulder, but you are going to talk to him. He needs us, Crassus. Both of us."

Crassus's legs began to shake with the effort of keeping his body upright.

"I can't," he whispered. Maximus put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You can," he said, and then his face hardened in concentration. Nothing happened for a second, and then-

Crassus gasped. The pain was gone. Completely absent, his lungs, his body, everything felt right again.

"Watch it," Max growled, his voice strained, and he let go of his watercrafting. The pain returned, but only at a fraction of the magnitude it had been at. Crassus looked up at his brother incredulously.

"How?" He asked weakly. Max grinned, although traces of exhaustion lingered on his strong features.

"One of those newly invented applications of furycraft," he replied. "Don't ask me to explain the details, they're way over my head. We've been working on it whenever we can. It's hard, but it works." He studied his younger brother's face carefully. "Octavian understands what you're going through. He knows, and he won't stop until he makes this right. Don't worry, little brother. We'll get you back in the air. You just have to give him the chance."

"I can't just forgive him," Crassus said after a moment. "It's too much to forget."

"That's fine. He doesn't need you to. All you need to do is talk to him, and then come back to us, in your own time. So?"

Crassus took a deep breath, feeling the ever present pain, and took a step forward, straightening to his full height for the first time in months.

"All right. Let's go talk to Octavian."


End file.
